An obnoxious sergeant and a secret
by blackwhiteroses
Summary: Lestrade grows tired of Donovan constantly calling Sherlock a freak. He tries to end it once and for all.
1. Coming out

**A/N: I'm completely disregarding the fact that in the series Lestrade had been married, also this story happens after the Reichenbach Fall, but ignores the special episode The Abominable Bride and the fact that Sherlock killed Magnussen. Enjoy!**

They were at a crime scene, both squatting next to the body, examining the wound that was obviously the cause of death. John hadn't arrived yet, so they didn't touch the body, waiting for their doctor. They had stumbled onto the crime scene themselves, and Lestrade had called it in, while Sherlock was searching for clues, delighted that he, for once, could be the first to examine the scene.

They had found the body in an alleyway, a few blocks from Baker Street, when they were walking home from an evening out. Sherlock, who was intimately familiar with the back alleys of London, specifically those close to his home, had instantly spotted something was wrong, and after cautiously approaching the scene, they had found the body. Lestrade had searched for a pulse, but since the victims skin felt cold to the touch, he instantly knew there was nothing to be done for the man, but to catch his killer.

Sherlock was narrating what he saw to the DI, when Donovan and the rest of the team showed up.

"So, did you catch the Freak in the act or did he call you in himself?" Donovan said obnoxiously to her boss. Lestrade couldn't help but notice Sherlock flinching at the derogative name and he had enough, the woman was nothing but a nuisance when Sherlock was around, and even when he wasn't she still couldn't stop herself from insulting him every chance she got.

So Lestrade stood up, intent on putting an end to it once and for all, but Sherlock stopped him with a touch to his hand. Lestrade looked at the consulting detective, who silently shook his head, before walking off to examine a scuff mark on the ground a few feet from the body.

Lestrade sighed as he watched the man go. He wished Sherlock would let him stand up for him once in a while. He knew the curly-haired man was perfectly capable of defending himself, but he was Donovan's boss, and he could make her stop the insults around the crime scenes. While if Sherlock stood up for himself, Donovan would only get worse.

Donovan turned to him, "Well? Did you? Catch him that is?" Lestrade just glared at her, before walking over to John who had finally arrived.

After they were done examining everything they could at the crime scene itself, they started wrapping everything up. Lestrade saw Donovan walking over to where Sherlock was examining another clue. He winced, this wouldn't end well. He hurried over, trying to stop the sergeant from reaching the detective. But Anderson stopped him, asking something about the case.

Momentarily distracted, Lestrade hadn't been able to reach Donovan in time, but he could see that Sherlock once again winced, as if he had been called a Freak again. He said to Anderson that his question could wait as he made his way over to the two people standing at the edge of the crime scene.

"Really Freak?" Another wince. "Do you think that I'm the only one that figured you out? That it's only a matter of time before it's a body _you_ put there?" Lestrade could see that Sherlock was seething, and he didn't understand why the detective didn't just answer her. When normally he doesn't have any compulsion about it. And then suddenly Lestrade understood. Sherlock was doing it for him, the DI had complained a couple of nights ago after another of their by now infamous fights, and Sherlock had decided he would stop antagonizing the woman, in the hope she'd stop insulting him. Apparently that strategy wasn't working out.

"Nothing to say for yourself then Freak? Admitting that I'm right?" Sherlock winced once again before he tried to turn away from the annoying woman. Tried being the cooperative word here, for she grabbed him by the arm. But before she could yet again launch into another derogative speech, Lestrade spoke.

"I'd appreciate it, if you'd stop calling my husband a Freak. I'm sick and tired of you calling him that." Donovan turned to him, wide-eyed and working herself up to start yelling at him, but Lestrade cut her of again. "I've asked you again and again to stop agonizing him, he stopped, obviously, because he wasn't answering you, so now I'm asking you. Again. Leave him alone, and stop insulting him. He hasn't done anything to warrant this kind of behaviour from you." Intent on leaving it at that Lestrade turned to Sherlock, but Donovan wouldn't let him.

"Your husband?" She said, with obvious disgust in her voice. "You married that?" This time Lestrade had had it. "Yes, I married _him_. Problem with that?"

"Yes, actually I do. I thought we were friends Greg? How could you not tell me you're queer and had married... well... that? And when?"

"Friends? Ha, don't make me laugh. I merely tolerated you, because you happened to be my subordinate, and I couldn't just ship you of to another DI. Believe me I tried." Donovan sputtered at that, but Lestrade ignored her. "You were never a friend, because you have always insulted the man that I loved most in this world. And when, that's actually none of your business, but I'll tell you anyway. We had a case in Belgium, where gay marriage has been legal since 2003, and when we were over there, we got married. So since September 2009, a little over 6 years."

"But... but... How come nobody told me then? How come you didn't tell me when I started working for you?"

This time Sherlock fielded the question, after rolling his eyes at his husband, he could have handled it. "Why would he? You have shown nothing but contempt to me, and besides, nobody knew. If you weren't aware, being gay is still not accepted everywhere, and unfortunately as a police officer he'd have to combat prejudice and ridicule, and I didn't want him to go through that. Therefore I asked him to keep it silent." He shot a soft look at his husband. "Besides, our marriage wasn't even recognized in the UK until two years ago, after you had already started to work for him and ridiculing me. And well... the fact you called him a queer doesn't quite help your case now. Besides, you're the kind of person, that if you'd have known, you'd have insinuated Greg only kept me around for one thing, and I know he's aware of that too. So yeah, he didn't tell you. Deal with it."

Sherlock stormed off after that, and Lestrade eyed him appreciatively. His husband was sexy when he was ticked of about something. Ah well, the cat was out of the bag now, Lestrade thought after he saw the audience they had gathered. Seeing John standing there with a bewildered look on his face he sighed, guess Sherlock hadn't told him after all. Lestrade had always assumed he would have.

"Alright everyone, wrap it up and I'll see you all tomorrow. Go home, there's nothing to see here. John, with me please." Lestrade would try to salvage the situation with the blond.

"I assume Sherlock hasn't told you, like I thought he did five years ago?" he asked the doctor as he fell into step with him. Lestrade sighed as John shook his head. "Damn it, Sherlock..." He turned to the other man. "Look John, it's not as if he doesn't appreciate you, he's just an insanely private man, and doesn't trust other people easily. I had known Sherlock for three years before he'd even consider dating me. It took me another two to convince him that I'd be sticking around. And once he was convinced, well, we were in Belgium back then, and got married over there." Lestrade smiled softly in memory of their wedding day. It had been just the two of them and they had to get special permission because neither of them were living in Belgium. But they had insisted and eventually had gotten married in Ghent.

"Alright, I'll accept he hasn't told me, but Greg, you have to let me take you to the pub tomorrow night, there are some things I'd like to know. And well, Mary is waiting for me by now I'm sure." They decided on a time and a place to meet up the following day and went their separate ways. John home to Mary, and Lestrade to Baker Street where, he was sure, his husband had gone off to.


	2. A question

When Lestrade arrived at Baker Street Sherlock was already in his dressing gown, playing his violin, just drawing notes from it without any sort of sequence to them. Upon entering the living room, Sherlock just shot him a glance from the corner of his eyes at which Lestrade smiled fondly. He knew his husband wasn't confident in expressing sentiment and the fact that he had even glanced at him, made him smile. Often his husband would just ignore him, not knowing what to say or do, even after all these years.

Lestrade shrugged out of his coat, throwing it over the back of what used to be Johns chair and walked over to his husband. Studying the man for tiny signs that he would be welcome to show affection, he smiled as Sherlock glanced at him once more. Recognizing the sign for what it was, he wrapped his arms around his husbands waist. Nuzzling his nose in Sherlock's hair, he breathed in deeply, loving the smell of apple shampoo and Sherlock's unique scent.

"You told them." Sherlock said after a few minutes, for once stating the obvious, while changing the tune he was playing to something softer and more rhythmical. Lestrade just hummed as he started placing soft kisses on Sherlock's neck. Sherlock stopped playing and tilted his head to give Lestrade better access. They stood there for a while like that, Lestrade hugging his husband from behind, nuzzling and kissing his neck, while Sherlock occasionally had to remind himself to keep a better grip on his violin so he wouldn't drop it.

Reluctantly Sherlock stepped away from his husband, placing the violin in it's case before turning around to step back into Lestrade's arms. Slipping his own arms around the slightly shorter man he pecked him on the lips softly. "You know, the lease of your apartment is almost over." Lestrade hummed again, looking curiously at his husband. Sherlock tried to pull away when Lestrade didn't answer, but the Detective Inspector wouldn't let him. "It is." Lestrade encouraged him, already knowing where the other man was going with this, but needing him to say it anyway. While Sherlock was trying to find a way to say what he wanted to say, Lestrade went back to nuzzling and nipping his throat.

"And well, John has moved out again." Lestrade nodded to indicate he had heard him, trailing his fingers up to the others collar to unbutton the two top buttons so he could have better access. Sherlock moaned at a particularly harsh nip, he always loved the rougher treatment when his husband was in the mood. Blinking through the arousal it caused he tried to get his mind back on track. Lestrade was the only one who could derail his thoughts, even after six years of marriage and two years dating before that.

"So I need a new flatmate to pay the rent with." Lestrade's answering smile was hidden in Sherlock's neck, but the curly haired man sensed it anyway and his heart jumped a little at the joy it caused him. Encouraged by it, but still doubtful he continued on. "And you know how I said a couple of years ago I needed my space, no matter how much I loved you?" Lestrade nodded and answered verbally this time, to encourage his husband and to take away his doubts. "I needed it as much as you Sherlock, after all the years I had spend living alone I wouldn't have been easy to live with. And I didn't want there to be anything to jeopardize our marriage." Sherlock started to doubt again, before he picked up on the fact that his husband had spoken in past tense. "Needed?" he asked hopefully. "So you wouldn't be adverse to moving in?"

Lestrade stepped back so he could look into Sherlock's eyes. "I would like nothing better, Sunshine."

Rewarded with a big smile Lestrade swooped in to kiss his husband breathless. They stumbled over to the couch where Lestrade proceeded to push of the dressing gown and continued to unbutton the white shirt Sherlock was wearing underneath. Feeling Sherlock's arousal against his thigh, Lestrade's blood redirected immediately to his own. "Greg.." Sherlock moaned out, impatiently, when Lestrade teasingly rubbed his husband over the fabric of his fancy trousers. Lestrade grinned and made quick work of getting rid of Sherlock's trousers and pants. At this moment Lestrade was more grateful than ever that his husband disliked wearing shoes or socks in the apartment, so he could take the items of clothing off unhindered by them. As soon as he had gotten Sherlock naked, he sank down onto his knees on the floor while pushing Sherlock so he was sitting upright with his legs on either side of Lestrade. Sherlock's pupils dilated and his hands grabbed onto fabric of the couch for something to hold onto, while Lestrade swallowed his erection down his throat in one go. He gagged a bit, still not able to take his husband down in one go, but Sherlock didn't mind. Anything but actually, he loved seeing Lestrade on his knees for him, and Lestrade loved being able to make his husband loose control like this.

Lestrade gripped onto the left thigh of his husband while his other hand toyed with Sherlock's entrance. Dipping in with his pointer finger, Sherlock groaned and tried to push back onto it. But Lestrade grinned around his erection, and removed his fingers.

"Greg!" Sherlock whined when Lestrade also removed his mouth. Smirking Lestrade stood up and left in lieu for the bedroom, loosing his clothes as he went, Sherlock not far behind him.

Sitting onto the bed, as naked as Sherlock was, he pulled his husband to him by grabbing his arse by both cheeks. Sherlock groaned and moved closer to the DI, he grabbed onto the short silver hairs of his husband, when Lestrade took his erection back into his mouth. Luckily he had sat down close to the bedside table, so he could reach it's drawer, with his left hand straining a bit, he pulled the bottle of lube out. Still bobbing his head, he opened the cap, and clumsily lubed his fingers up. Lestrade tossed the bottle back in the drawer, and grabbed Sherlock's arse cheek with his dry hand, making room for his lubed fingers to toy once again with Sherlock's entrance.

Groaning Sherlock tossed his head back as Lestrade pushed one of his fingers in. The silver-haired man wiggled his finger around until he was able to push another one in to stretch Sherlock properly. Sherlock gripped his hair tighter and it went straight to Lestrade's cock. He loved the rough treatment almost as much as Sherlock did. Releasing Sherlock's cock, he bent a bit forward to nuzzle the others balls before taking one into his mouth. Scissoring his fingers, he quickly worked in a third, while Sherlock was moaning almost constantly now. Lestrade smirked and released the testicle and his fingers from Sherlock's body.

Scooting back up the bed, until he was sitting against the headboard, Lestrade lifted an eyebrow at Sherlock still standing at the bedside. "You just gonna stand there then?" Lestrade asked, fisting his cock with his lubed hand. Sherlock's eyes drifted down towards the motion of Lestrade's hand and moaned, fisting his own cock. "I might." he answered, looking back up to Lestrade's face, before flicking his eyes down to his cock again.

"Pity. I'll have to finish of on my own then." Lestrade answered with a smile, before closing his eyes and fisting his cock a bit faster. He smirked when he felt Sherlock straddling him, and held his cock firm so Sherlock could slide down over him. Lestrade moaned at the feeling of Sherlock's hot, tight channel gripping him exquisitely. Rolling his hips he thrust up into Sherlock who moaned in response and ducked down to kiss Lestrade.

Grabbing Sherlocks hips, Lestrade helped his husband ride him, while imitating the motion of his hips with his tongue in Sherlocks mouth. Groaning when Sherlock strangled his fingers into his silver hair again, Lestrade moved his mouth down to the younger man"s neck. Biting and sucking at the pale skin he moved his right hand down to the other man's cock to pull in time with the movements of their hips. It was still a bit slick from the fingering of Sherlocks arse before, and it gave just the right amount of friction against Sherlocks cock.

Sherlocks hips started to falter, teetering on the edge of a marvellous orgasm when Lestrade flipped them over. Sherlock swore when the motion dislodged Lestrade's cock from his arse, effectively cutting of his climax. Sherlock glared at the DI, who smirked a bit before entering Sherlock once again with a particularly harsh trust from his hips. Sherlock put his hands behind him, against the headboard to avoid being shoved into it. He loved it when Lestrade got this rough.

Now able to trust harder then before, Lestrade quickly made work of getting Sherlock to that edge again, grabbing his husbands hips to fuck him even rougher. Sherlock groaned as his cock was squished exquisitely between their now slick bellies, slick from Sherlocks precome, their sweat and the leftover lube from Lestrade's hands.

This time it was Lestrade's hips that faltered before a particularly harsh trust made his husband scream his name in climax. Feeling Sherlocks walls gripping him even tighter, he fell over the edge himself, moaning out the younger ones name as he spilled inside his husband.

Collapsing onto his husband, he snuggled his face into the others neck worrying a bit at the bruise that was forming there.

"Stop that Greg." Sherlock mumbled, pushing a bit at his husband. Lestrade just smiled and nipped at the bruise once more, before rolling off of his husband, wincing at the squelch of his cock leaving the others arse. Knowing that the other didn't like the mess after the sex was over, he got up to the adjoining bathroom to get a wet flannel. Cleaning himself and his husband off, he threw the flannel over to where his clothes were lying approximately. Sherlock sighed a happy sigh as Lestrade spooned up to his back, snuggling back into the arms of his husband he fell asleep.

Lestrade kissed the other softly on the hair before falling asleep himself.


	3. Questions answered

The next evening Lestrade was sitting at a small round table in a pub close to Baker Street nursing a pint while he waited for John to show up. Unable to keep the smile off his face he recounted the evening before when he and Sherlock had celebrated the fact they would be living together soon. They hadn't yet decided on a date for the actual move, but Lestrade knew it wouldn't be long, they were both a bit impatient for it, now that the decision was finally made.

Too immersed in his thoughts he hadn't noticed John sitting down at the opposite chair. John cleared his throat and Lestrade looked up, startled a bit. "Had a good night, did you?" John said with a smirk, finally able to tease Lestrade back for zoning out, when he had often been teased himself when he had zoned out after a particularly good night with Mary.

Lestrade flushed a bit, giving John the answer he needed. Chuckling at his mate, he waved a waitress over to order another round for him and Lestrade.

"So tell me, how did you two end up married to each other?" John asked once they had had a bit of small talk about Mary and her pregnancy.

Lestrade grinned. "He got us into a clerks office in Ghent when we were over in Belgium, made a call to Mycroft and married me, before I quite realized what was happening." He said, intentionally mistaking the question.

"You didn't know you were marrying him? So you didn't..." John started asking, but Lestrade quickly interrupted him. "No, not like that. It was just so quick, he proposed that morning and when I said yes, he didn't want me to change my mind again and got us married." "Oh." John was relieved, he knew how Sherlock could be on a case. For god's sake, he fake proposed once for a case. Saving the question about that instance for later, he again asked how they had met.

"On a case actually." Lestrade answered. "By now, eleven years ago, when Sherlock was 22 and me 31, I was working as a sergeant on a murder case and he stumbled upon it, high as a kite and solved it within five minutes. And that was from behind the police ropes even. I vowed to myself I'd do everything I could to sober him up, so he could one day live up to his potential." Lestrade smiled fondly, remembering the day he met the junkie. "So I took him in, fought tooth and nail to get him sobered up and fell in love with him along the way."

John smiled, being able to imagine the stubbornness Sherlock would have shown. "So you started dating then?"

Lestrade huffed. "Not at all, it took us two years to get to that point. I knew it wouldn't be a good idea to start dating him then, for if anything would have gone wrong between us at that point, he'd almost certainly have a relapse." John being a doctor could see his point.

"He moved out, to live on his own after half a year of being clean. Both because he needed to prove he could keep clean, and because I was a bit too overbearing at that point, too paranoid for a relapse. It didn't help that Sherlock created mess everywhere with his experiments, and I was a bit of a neat-freak back then." Lestrade chuckled. "The fact you could cut the sexual tension with a butter knife didn't help either." John chuckled too.

"Bit hard to imagine Sherlock as a sexual being actually." John said, hesitatingly, he didn't want Lestrade to take it the wrong way.

"But he is, God, he is. He can focus his complete attention on just one thing you know." And John did know, he had seen it himself often enough when Sherlock was on a case. So he nodded to show he did. "Well, just imagine that incredible focus, that intense attention to detail, focused on you. God, it's fantastic when he does that." Lestrade leered and John snorted. "But yeah, I know why you say you can't see it. He isn't with everybody. Actually, he's only with me, and when it benefits him for a case. Even then I have never seen him like he is with me, thank God. He once described himself as demi-sexual, or as he put it, Greg-sexual."

"So he does know your first name then?" John said, he had wondered about it. He, himself wouldn't have liked it if Mary would forget his.

"Oh, he knows alright, but he keeps 'The Work'" Both John and Lestrade rolled their eyes, knowing how Sherlock was about the Work. "and our relationship separate. I'm only Greg to him when we're alone, and more often then not only when naked. But it's been a running joke ever since he first stole my warrant card. It only said G. Lestrade, and I refused to give him my first name until he gave the card back. He never did obviously, but he guessed fairly quickly what my name is. Never uses it on a case though." Lestrade smiled fondly again and drank from the fresh pint that had just been delivered by the waitress.

"And dating him, how did that start?" John asked, drinking from his own pint.

"After he moved out he started his detective business, and I was still coming over regularly to see how he was doing. One night, about a year after he had moved out and I had been promoted to DI, I was stumped on a case about domestic abuse gone wrong, though I didn't know it was domestic. So I told him about it, to see what he'd make of it and he solved it after a couple of days. I took him out for a pint to celebrate and we got thrown out of the pub, both drunk out of our minds because it was that gruesome." Lestrade chugged a good portion of his pint then, he still didn't like to think about it.

"He invited me in when we got to his place by cab, he lived somewhere in Canary Wharf back then and we got even more drunk. Next morning we woke up in bed next to each other, not naked, thank God. I would never have forgiven myself if we had had our first time that night and I wouldn't have remembered it." Lestrade grimaced at the thought. "But we had kissed and fooled around, judging by the mess in our pants."

This time it was John who grimaced, he really didn't need the details of their sex-life, thank you very much. Lestrade saw and snorted at his face. "That's how I feel when you tell me about your sex-life with Mary, mate." John coloured a bit.

"I didn't know what to think of it that morning, but I figured he had to be interested, since I had never seen him get sexual with anyone. And well, I pulled him out of one too many drug dens, where people where often selling their bodies for drugs. So I took a chance. I asked him out. Sherlock snorted and told me I didn't have too, but I insisted. The bloody git refused to go out with me for over a month, but I had seen something in his eyes, in his mannerism when I asked him out the first time that I kept at it. I suspected that if I gave up on him then, he'd relapse, and well, I really did want to go out with him, in spite of that. And Sherlock even admitted later on that he probably would have relapsed."

They were silently sipping their drinks for a bit, imagining their life without Sherlock in it, because that would have been the case if Lestrade had given up on him. John was remembering the first few days since he had met Sherlock. He had saved his life by offering him a chance to work cases with him. He remembered the first time at Angelo's then, and what Sherlock had said about dating.

"He did sort of tell me, you know. Back when we were working that case of those suicides. He said he considered himself to be married to his work." John snorted. "And well, you are his work, or you give him work at least. Maybe that was his own Sherlocky way of telling me."

Lestrade smiled at that. "I suppose it was." They reminisced a bit about that case before John asked about the reason for the drug bust.

"He had relapsed a month or so before that case. He had a bad room mate back then, a former friend, well as far as he has friends, from back in the drug dens. The room mate had relapsed and pulled Sherlock with him eventually. Caused a major fight between us, biggest one we had up to that point, and married for only a couple of months I was hurt and pissed and I said some things I'm not proud of. He did too. But he got clean again, and was trying to tell me about it. But I didn't believe him, when he said it had been a one time thing. So yeah, when he told us about the suitcase being in the back of the car, I knew he'd find it. And we needed an excuse to confront him, and I needed an excuse for a drugs bust. I'm not proud of it. But it did put my mind at ease that we didn't find anything." Lestrade emptied his glass, avoiding John's pitying gaze. "We made up that night, after you shot the cabbie." John startled.

"You knew?" Lestrade chuckled. "Of course I knew, I'm not stupid. Sherlock had started deducting about the shooter, when suddenly he trailed off seeing you standing there. And well, I had looked you up after he brought you to that crime scene, and I knew enough. But I wasn't going to arrest someone who kept my husband from killing himself with those damn pills."

John was relieved at that. "Well, I'll buy the next round then, as a thank you for not arresting me." He signalled the waitress.

"So how come you don't live together?" John asked, sincerely curious about it. "And how in the hell were you able to not shoot me or anything when I moved in with him." Lestrade snorted.

"We weren't ready for living together again. We're both fiercely independent people and we had lived together before, and it had nearly destroyed our friendship. We couldn't let it destroy our relationship. Besides, it really is true, that saying about absence makes the heart grow fonder." Lestrade winked at John. "The way we go at it, if we haven't been together for more than three days. Well, makes me think I'm a teenager again."

John rolled his eyes and sipped at the fresh beer that the waitress put in front of him.

"And for not shooting you, well you were adamant that you're not gay. Plus I know Sherlock, he doesn't cheat, like I said before, he considers himself Greg-sexual."

They chatted a bit about other things, John didn't have any questions at the moment, and he knew he was being a bit intrusive, but he figured Lestrade would tell him when he had enough about answering questions.

A while later, after Lestrade had gotten up to take a leak, John remembered Sherlocks fake proposal to get into Magnussen's office.

When Lestrade returned John told him all about it. And Lestrade grumbled over it for awhile, not having known about it.

"I shouldn't be surprised, really. I know what he's like, and I know the lengths he would go to for a case. I mean he made the world believe he had committed suicide for a case." Lestrade said, sighing a bit. "But I know he's mine, I know he won't cheat, so I'm actually not really mad about it." John stared at Lestrade confusedly. "Oh, don't look at me like that. I'll have words with him on the matter, but we'll get past it. Just look at what we've been through already." Lestrade said and John had to concur. If they had been able to get past Sherlock leaving for two years, they'd be able to get past everything.

"Well," John said, remembering the time after the Reichenbach case. "I suppose it makes sense now, you knowing he was alive and all." John remembered the day after Sherlock's supposedly suicide, when Lestrade came to him, telling him the detective wasn't dead. John hadn't believed him at first, why would Sherlock tell the DI, but not his best friend. But Sherlock had told Lestrade and Lestrade being too nice a guy to let John in the dark, had told John.

"Hmm, yes well. Sherlock couldn't not tell me he was alive. He knew what it would do to me, if I thought he was death, killing himself after I had arrested him." Lestrade downed his pint in one go. "A former lover of mine had killed himself after having stalked me for a few months, after which I arrested him and got a restraining order. Sherlock knew what it had done to me, the guilt that had consumed me. So I suppose Sherlock couldn't watch me go through that again and told me he was alive." John smiled at him sympathetically, downing his own glass.

Lestrade looked at his watch, and saw they had been there for over three hours. "So, got any more questions? Otherwise I'm off to find my spouse, and you can do the same." John shook his head, and signalled the waitress for the bill. Insisting that he'd pay, since he had been asking some intrusive questions, they left the pub.

John stopped Lestrade before they went their separate ways. "I'm really glad for the both of you." He said sincerely. "I don't think I could have imagined anyone else with Sherlock, or you for that matter." Lestrade smiled at John and clapped him on his back. "Thanks mate, that means a lot, coming from you."

 **A/N: This was it for now, it took me quite a while to write this up, but I'm glad I finished it! It could be I do a sequel to this, or rather a prologue, writing more in detail the relationship between Sherlock and Lestrade over the length of the series, but as I'm currently trying to write up another story, that won't be for quite a while.**

 **Thanks for reading!**


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